


it was war

by emotionally_traumatized



Series: Klave Stuff [1]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Flashbacks, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, a fuck ton of pain on my part jesus christ, based off of a random thing i thought in my health class, sorry for my shitty writing ability, this hurt so much to write, trigger warning, trigger warning?, triggering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-01 16:39:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17870870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emotionally_traumatized/pseuds/emotionally_traumatized
Summary: He screamed for a medic that would never come because it was war and no one really cares who loses their life as long as in the end the war is won.





	it was war

**Author's Note:**

> hi at anyone who came here from that one discord server  
> im so sorry about this.
> 
> for those of you who don't understand how PTSD related nightmares and flashbacks work, it can go a couple different ways. personally what usually happens with me is im sent back to the exact moment and i have to relive it, unable to do anything about it but able to think clearly about how shitty the moment is and feel whatever i physically felt during it. think of it like a dream where you're self-aware but only enough to think and process whats going on but not enough to control your body. thats kinda the perspective on it i wrote klaus from, able to the think and process the situation and feel what was physically happening but unable to do anything about it.
> 
> if its not clear italics=dream and normal text=just..normal shit

_He could hear it, he could see it all around him so clearly. The gunshots, the darkness, and,_ fuck, _out of the corner of his eye he could see Dave_. Dave _._ _Poor, sweet,_ beautiful _Dave._

_ He felt his own body lurch to the side and duck down as a bullet narrowly missed his skull. All he wanted to do was close his eyes and wish this all away, but his eyes stayed peeled open as he tilted back to his original position and the corners of his mouth pulled up into a smile. _

_ “Wooh, Christ on a cracker! That was a close one, huh, Dave?”  _

_ Klaus glanced over at his lover, waiting for a response. When he didn’t get one, the man reached out and gently hit Dave’s shoulder. When he again got no response was when panic had seized him. _

_ He grabbed Dave and quickly rolled him over and onto his back. God, there was so much blood. Blood leaking from Dave’s chest, blood seeping into Dave’s shirt, and blood coating and staining the skin of Klaus’s hands when he had shakily placed them over the hole a bullet had left in Dave’s chest. _

_ “Medic!” Klaus roared. He pressed down on Dave’s wound, trying to ease the bleeding.  _ Fuck, _ he kept thinking. Fuck, I don’t want to go through this again. He leant his head real close to Dave’s as he moved one of his blood-soaked hands from Dave’s chest to his cheek. Klaus’s feather-light fingers just barely stroked Dave’s jawbone before he began to gently tap his face, trying to keep him conscious. _

_ “Dave! Dave, look at me, look at me.” Dave gurgled in response. Blood spilled from his mouth and trailed down his chin as his eyes opened the slightest bit to peer up at Klaus. Klaus again cried out for a medic before he leant back down and rubbed Dave’s cheek with his hand. _

_ “Hey, look at me, look at me.” Dave somehow found the strength within himself to reach up and clasp the hand that Klaus was covering the bullet hole with.  _

_ “Look at me, hey, hey, hey.” As Dave started to choke on his own blood Klaus fumbled around with his free hand, using it to press down on Dave’s chest before he ran his dirtied fingers through Dave’s hair, before he finally slid it under Dave’s neck and used it to cradle his head. _

_ “Please. Please stay with me, Dave.” Klaus pressed his cheek against Dave’s hair, starting to cry as he slowly rocked Dave and himself back and forth. “Please, Dave, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.” _

_ A sob finally broke free from Klaus’s mouth as he pulled his other hand away from Dave’s chest to rub his cheek. He tilted his head and pressed his lips against Dave’s forehead, silently beginning to chant ‘I love you’ both against Dave’s head and inside his own. _

 

Klaus awoke with a start. Immediately, his hand shot out and patted the empty space next to him in bed, where Dave could always be found after Klaus woke up from a particularly bad dream or when the dead screaming at him got a little bit too much.

After he felt only the fabric of his bed sheet, Klaus curled in on himself. He reached up and clutched the dog tags that hung from around his neck with the same hand that had clutched at Dave’s chest however many decades ago it was. He rubbed the bits of metal in between his fingers as his other hand went up and tangled with and pulled at his messy hair.

Klaus had never been a loud crier. He learned at a young age that it would do nothing for him. No matter how loud he screamed and cried and  _ begged _ for somebody to  _ please _ just come and save him from the mausoleum his father so regularly locked him in, no one ever had, so he learned to stifle his sobbing and pathetic whimpers until only silent tears slipped down his cheeks. Right now, though, Klaus couldn’t bring himself to care as a wail that could only be described as heart-wrenching ripped its way out of his throat.

Klaus hated these stupid nightmares he kept on having. The flashbacks, too. He could be simply existing in peace and then see something or hear something or even just  _ think  _ something that sent him right on back to watching the love of his life bleeding to death while he was powerless to do anything. Sure, he had screamed out for a medic to come and try to save Dave, but he knew that that wouldn’t happen. He screamed for a medic that would never come because it was war and no one really cares who loses their life as long as in the end the war is won. 

Klaus tugged particularly hard on his hair, and a small clump of it was pulled out from his scalp. He slowly unclenched his hand and let the hair fall past his fingers and onto his bed, and then he let his hand fall down to the bed, too. 

As he curled closer to himself, all Klaus could think about was how if Dave had survived, or if Dave was here right now, how he would wrap his arms around Klaus and hold him, slowly rocking him back and forth as Klaus cried his heart out.


End file.
